Alternate
by SeventhDaughter
Summary: Malik struggles against the Ishtar family curse. He breaks all the rules - he gets connected, falls in love and more. What will he do when the curse begins to rebound on him? YAOI (don't say I didn't warn ya) MR, MB. Chappie Two UP!
1. In The Beginning: The Cruel Awakening

Twenty-two year old Ryou Bakura dropped his pencil on the algorithm he was writing to lean back and stretch. He slumped back in his chair, leaning his head back, to look around the apartment. He had bought this apartment several years ago, after he had finished school and started university. Of course, he didn't live alone. Another reason for buying his own place had been so he could live with his beautiful lover, Malik Ishtar (who had chipped in on the cost). Ryou looked around the room fondly. Funny how old times had passed, leaving the memories of the Millennium Items vague and unimportant. This house was filled with memories that were more important, with so many good times he and Malik had spent together. The smile slowly left his lips, as he recalled the unhappy times, the estrangement and fights that had been happening more often lately. Several years ago, he thought they could be together forever, but now…

Ryou stretched one last time, before getting back to work. He had a huge exam coming up soon, and was hoping to get a good grade on it. He worked in silence for several minutes, before he heard the inevitable step behind him.

"Ryou?" Malik asked quietly. Ryou suppressed the urge to sigh.

"It's going great," he answered, for the millionth time that evening. Malik smiled at him, the special smile he reserved only for Ryou, which never failed to make Ryou get all fuzzy inside no matter how he felt otherwise.

"I should hope so," Malik said, coming to stand behind his white haired love. "You spend so much time studying."

Ryou knew that he had to work, but it was so hard to with Malik standing so close to him that he could smell him, and running tanned hands gently through his pale locks. "Maliiiik," he protested softly, "I really have to study…"

The Egyptian leaned down slightly, his breath warm against Ryou's ear. "Can't you study later? Lately it seems that that's _all_ you do."

Ryou pulled Malik's hands away, turning around to confront his lover, who was looking at him in disappointment. "Malik, just because you never study doesn't mean I don't have to! You don't seem to care what kind of grades you get, but I have to think about my future!" For some reason, this conversation seemed very familiar. "Now can you _please_ let me finish studying for this evening?" Ryou felt the twinge of guilt he always got when Malik looked aside with that crestfallen expression, like a puppy getting kicked.

"I'm sorry," Malik said unhappily. "I won't bother you anymore." He turned quickly, leaving the room. Ryou couldn't help but feel a guilty relief that maybe now he would finally get his work done.

He worked in blissful silence for about an hour, before he heard soft footsteps once more. Ryou was preparing for another repetition of the previous conversation, but Malik didn't speak, just quietly put a mug of coffee down next to Ryou's books before vanishing. Ryou stared in surprise for a minute, before reaching out to take it. A peace offering. The coffee was perfect, just the way he liked it, with lots of sugar and milk. He wondered if he had made his Malik cry…again. Ryou buried his head in his hands miserably, pushing the notes to the side. Where had they gone wrong?

Malik had always liked attention, why was it suddenly too much for him? Did he truly not have time for his love any more?

But no, it was Malik's fault too, dammit! If he would just wait until after the exams, Ryou would have more time! Besides, why did Malik never study? Didn't he understand that they wouldn't be young forever, they had to earn a living at some point?

Malik was…immature. He didn't like to spend a lot of time studying. He didn't look to the future. He demanded attention. He had awful mood swings, sometimes being wonderfully cheerful, but other times easily reduced to tears by a simple word from Ryou.

Ryou was suffering as much as the Egyptian was. He felt so awful, every time Malik would quietly turn away from him, only to come back later with some little thing; chocolate, coffee, ice cream. Or he would go and make dinner, or clean the house, and be so obvious he was trying his best that it made Ryou want to cry.

Other times, he was hard pressed to control his annoyance at Malik, who could be ridiculously stubborn and infuriating.

All in all, things weren't working out the way it had seemed.

They still loved each other, though, that much was painfully obvious. Malik's kisses still made him go weak at the knees, and Ryou would still sit and stare at him and daydream about the way the light caught in his beautiful blonde hair, how his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the adorable sounds he made when Ryou sucked on his neck. When they lay together after making love, just quietly holding each other, Ryou felt completely content, and always wished the moment would go on forever. The next morning, they would fight again.

The white haired man sometimes wished guiltily that they didn't love each other anymore; then it would be so much easier to do what he was beginning to think must be done.

The conviction grew daily, until finally Ryou decided to end it once and for all. He called Malik into the living room one afternoon, the knowledge of what he was about to do nearly killing him, but knowing he had to go along with it.

Malik seemed to sense that something important was happening, because he had a slightly apprehensive look on his face.

"Malik, there's something I need to tell you," Ryou began, before he could lose his nerve. "I think we need to break up."

The Egyptian looked confused, a hurt fear reflected in his lavender eyes. "What do you mean 'break up'?" he asked slowly, an undercurrent of panic to his voice.

"I think we should stop living together." Ryou forced himself to keep his tone even, to control his arms that desperately itched to pull Malik close and forget all about this awful idea.

"Why?" Malik's voice quivered slightly, and sounded oddly choked. "I love you, Ryou!"

"Malik, I love you too, so much that sometimes I don't believe it," Ryou said earnestly, gripping Malik's shoulders. "But that's why we need to break up." The other opened his mouth to protest, but Ryou cut him off. "Be realistic, Malik. We've both been horribly unhappy lately. I don't know why, but we're not managing anymore."

"We can work it out!" Malik protested, now sounding almost completely frantic. . "I know we can!" His voice died out, as Ryou shook his head.

"Don't you think it hurts me too, to see how I hurt you all the time? Is that all I'm good for, making you cry?" Ryou was nearly pleading, trying to make his love see why this was the best for them both. He ignored Malik's quick denial, continuing relentlessly. "We've tried. Tried for a while. But we don't think on the same wavelength anymore."

"So you're dumping me," Malik said sadly. Ryou nearly saw red for a moment. WHY did Malik always make everything so melodramatic?! Why did he persistently refuse to understand what Ryou was trying to tell him?!

"I'm not dumping you!" He tried hard not to yell, but didn't quite succeed. "Why can't you understand that I just want us both to be happy?! _Just grow up a little and be mature for once!_" Ryou instantly repented the words as he saw Malik flinch, a broken look he had never seen before flitting across the stricken face. "God, Malik, I'm sorry!" He couldn't help it, and pulled the warm body to him, just wanting to be close to the Egyptian, trying to convey his regret through their very bodies. "Malik, please, talk to me!" he begged, tears coming to his eyes. Malik abruptly seemed to come to some sort of decision, and gently pushed Ryou away with a strange mixture of brokenness and relief on his face. That one gesture seemed to Ryou so final, as if he had created a permanent rift between them. He hadn't wanted that! He wanted them to take some time alone, maybe they could solve the problems somehow.

"You're right," Malik said gently. "I tried to deny it, but you're right." He touched Ryou's face, pulling him close enough to place a soft kiss on the lips he loved so much. Ryou stared in confusion, as Malik turned away then, going towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Surely Malik wasn't going to leave so soon?

Malik didn't answer, but left the house, closing the door quietly. Ryou tore after him, almost angry again. Why did Malik insist on being melodramatic? Why couldn't he stop behaving like some crazy teenager? The man was nearly twenty-three for goodness' sake!

Ryou heard the distinctive roar from Malik's motorcycle, and made straight for his car. He wasn't going to let his Egyptian get away with it, this time! They would part on good terms, he swore to himself. No matter what it took.

He followed Malik, zigzagging through the traffic, until he saw that Malik had stopped on the bridge near Yugi's game shop. He double-parked quickly, ignoring the quizzical looks from passersby and the startled shouted question from Jounouchi, who was with Yugi and Kaiba there too.

Malik waited until Ryou was near, before he leaped easily onto the railing of the bridge and balanced there. Ryou stared, brown eyes widening in horror as he took in the precariousness of Malik's position, and the sad smile on his love's face.

"What are you doing?" he cried, not wanting to believe what his mind told him.

"Saying goodbye," Malik said quietly.

"You can't jump!" Ryou said, cold fear filling his stomach.

"It's the best way," was the implacable answer. "I should have taken the hint long ago, but what you said decided me. Just remember, Ryou, I love you." Ryou immediately leapt forward, trying to catch hold of Malik, but the blonde was already tumbling down. Ryou stared in horrified shock, feeling something within him tear as he leaned over the railing, watching the body hit the water and be dragged under by the current immediately. He hardly noticed the tears in his eyes, or the steady hands of Kaiba and Jounouchi pulling him away from the railing, as he tried to work his mind around the fact that his beautiful Malik was gone, and would never be back.

"I didn't know!" Ryou cried dazedly, desperately trying to make the people around him understand. "I swear, I didn't know he would do that! I didn't…" he sobbed. "I want my Malik back." Ryou whispered pathetically.

The rest of the day was a numb blur for Ryou, as he was led into the game shop, forced to drink something hot, and finally pushed onto a sofa. He stared up at the ceiling, knowing that it was all over, that he would never see his love again. Suddenly there were so many things he wanted to say to him, so many things he wanted to do with him and places he wanted to go with him. Ryou wanted to just hold and be held by him one last time, to share one last kiss. To take back every angry word he ever said. To tell Malik again how much he loved him. All the endless possibilities of what might have been ran through his head, as tears ran silently down his cheeks, and he knew that none of that would ever be.

Why? He cried endlessly in his mind. Had he hurt Malik so badly that he had driven him to suicide? And so easily? Malik had been nearly smiling!

The thoughts spiraled through Ryou's mind in a never ending litany, and he desperately wished he could turn back time, and fix all the squandered opportunities and senseless arguments. _Malik_, he begged, _my Malik, please come back. Just once. Just let me tell you how I love you, one more time, and make you believe it. Hold me just one more time. Malik_….

On the other side of the room Yugi, Jou and Kaiba sat, numb from the shock. Every few minutes one would get up and go check on Ryou.

"Poor Ryou," Yugi said, knowing it to be woefully inadequate.

"I can hardly imagine what he must be going through…" Jou said quietly. "We have to tell him it's not his fault. I know that if Shizuka suddenly…." He trailed off, unable to complete the awful thought. Kaiba was silent.

They had phoned the other members of the gang, telling them what had happened, to be met with equal reactions of shock all around. They had all grown to care about Malik as one of their own, how could he be gone suddenly? What possessed him to take his own life in such a way? The police were unsympathetic. Suicide cases in Japan were nothing new. The only way they might find the body would be if it washed up somewhere, but they might never find it.

Anzu had searched for some kind of phone number to tell Malik's siblings he was gone, but there was none to be found.

And through it all, Ryou remained desolate. They kept him at the shop, and tried to stay with him as much as they could. They kept him from drinking, and told him at every opportunity that it wasn't his fault, to which he cried that it was, that Malik had practically said he made the decision because of what Ryou said.

It seemed like a small piece of sunlight had suddenly winked out of their lives.

Three days later, Kaiba was on his way back from a formal dinner. Despite everything, he was the CEO of a company, and could not shirk his responsibilities. The dinner had been boring, and throughout it all, he had only wished to be gone from there. It seemed wrong to be at a dinner when his friends were all in mourning. He stared glumly out the window, as his driver took him quickly through the nearly deserted streets of two AM in Domino.

Suddenly, with a screech of brakes the car stopped, as some teenager ran across the street, clearly startled when he saw the car. Kaiba lurched forward in his seat and the driver cursed soundly, while the teen kept running. Kaiba suddenly jerked upwards as he remembered the brief flash he had seen in the car's headlights –a flash of gold and bronze. "After him!" he yelled to the driver, suddenly burning to know who that was. The car spun around, chasing the fleeing figure. Finally they got close enough, trapping him near a wall, and the car screeched to a stop again as Kaiba leapt out and tackled the teenager to the asphalt. He struggled with him for several moments, before managing to pin him down thoroughly.

Then, in the light from the headlights, he got a good look at his captive.

Pale blonde hair, now mussed, contrasted sharply with dark skin and asphalt. Bright lavender eyes met his in a glare. There was no mistaking the proud features, the earrings, the bracelets.

"Malik," Kaiba breathed in shock. He could see the eyes focused calculatingly, and answered the unspoken thought with a snarl. "Don't bother denying it. I know who you are." Kaiba shook his head. "I saw you jump off the bridge! I thought you were dead! Everybody thinks you are dead!" His glare intensified. "_Ryou_ thinks you are dead! How could you do this, to him of all people?!"

A guilty look crossed Malik's face, and he looked away. Kaiba got up, roughly dragging the Egyptian to his feet. "You're coming with me," he snapped. "And you're going to give us all a good explanation for this!" He shoved Malik into the limousine, none too gently, and told his driver to get to Yugi's.

The Egyptian had said nothing the whole trip, only sat sullenly staring out the window. They arrived at the shop, unnaturally lit in the late night darkness. Kaiba had woken up Yugi, and told him it was urgent. Not surprisingly, Yugi had called Anzu and Jounouchi, who had brought Mai, Shizuka, and Honda, respectively. They were all in Yugi's living room above the shop, with Ryou, when Kaiba walked in dragging Malik by the arm. All protests and questions as to why he had summoned them suddenly died. Nobody dared move or hardly breathe for a minute, until Ryou finally whispered, "Malik, is that you?"

Malik looked uncertain for a minute, but Ryou jumped at him, holding him as close as he possibly could, burying his head in the warm neck and sobbing quietly. Malik's hands found their way hesitantly around Ryou's body, until suddenly Ryou jerked his head up and slapped Malik across the face. The Egyptian stumbled backwards, one hand on his cheek as Ryou advanced on him angrily.

"What were you thinking?" Ryou yelled. "Why did you do that to me? Do you have any idea what you put me through? Where did Kaiba find you?"

"Wandering the streets," Kaiba said wryly.

"How could you do that to me?" Ryou asked, cold fury warring with the relief he felt that Malik wasn't dead. In a sudden change of mood, he pulled the blonde close, whimpering against his neck, "Malik, you're here, you're alive, oh God you scared me so badly…"

"You owe us an explanation," Jou spoke up finally. Malik nodded unhappily, finally speaking. His voice cracked several times, but slowly got clearer.

"I'll tell you," he said in a defeated voice. "I blew it, anyway. However, I suggest we all sit down." Still casting mistrustful looks at him, they all arranged themselves on the sofas while Malik gently pried Ryou off.

"First of all. How old do you think I am?"

"How is that relevant!" Honda spluttered.

"Just answer. Better yet, how old do I look?" Malik retorted quickly.

"You're nearly twenty three," Ryou said.

"But how old do I look!"

"I don't see-"

"Just answer!"

The protests fell silent, as they stared at him. Kaiba abruptly remembered his impression from the car, that they were chasing a teenager. "You look young," he said into the silence. "Like a teenager. Maybe seventeen, eighteen."

"I'm sixteen and three quarters. Approximately."

Jou's snort greeted that remark. "Right."

"You were sixteen during Battle City," Yugi said. "That was seven years ago. That would make you nearly twenty three."

Malik laced his fingers through Ryou's gently, and sighed. "I was still sixteen seven years before Battle City. My sixteenth birthday was about 250 years ago." He looked around at the looks on everybody's faces, the looks that plainly wondered if he were crazy. "I am now about 3233 years old. I am –" he choked on the words, unable to say them out loud.

"That is impossible," Kaiba stated flatly.

Malik leaned forward, an angry expression on his face. "Remember Battle City? Remember what I said then? I said my family had been stuck guarding the tombs for three thousand years. _What did you think I meant_?" He looked around at them. He had their complete attention, but none had yet understood what he was saying. "_That_ was the curse!" he spat. "We, us, my family. My family is Isis, Rishid, my parents. We were guarding the tomb for three thousand years! That was the curse of the Ishtars' I wanted to be rid of!"

They didn't believe him yet. He knew how to prove it. He pulled a knife out of his boot and stabbed himself right in the heart. Ryou leaped for him, even as he crumpled to the ground, blood gushing out of the wound in his chest. Before the others had barely reacted to the lifeless body, he suddenly gasped and coughed. Ryou cradled his love in his arms, his whole body numb. He barely registered the fact that he had nearly lost Malik again so soon.

"Look," Malik said to Ryou. He pulled up his shirt to show an unscarred, unblemished chest, save for spots of blood. There was no sign of the fatal wound. "It takes me only about ten seconds to come back to life from a clean stab to the heart," he said matter of factly. "Drowning takes a bit longer to revive from."

"Why did you do it?" Ryou asked quietly, running fingers through Malik's hair. "Why did you commit suicide?"

Malik sat up straighter, to lean against Ryou's chest. "Because of what you said. Do you know why it didn't work out between us? Because I act like a teenager. I _am_ a teenager. You're now six years older than me. You've matured. I haven't." He hunched over, trying to hide his face in his lover's chest. "I won't be getting any more mature than this. So, no matter what, we couldn't change anything. And suddenly –" his voice trailed off, before he got control again. "I suddenly understood completely that you, all of you, are going to get old, but I won't. It's happened before, many times, but suddenly…Dammit, Ryou!" Tears were now running down his cheeks as he looked up and the face of his beloved, so young, and yet so much older than him. "Don't you understand? You're all going to die. You're going to get old and die. Ryou, if you live to be 94, then you'll get to wish me Happy Seventeenth Birthday."

"So you do age," Jou commented stupidly from the side.

"I age. Very, very slowly. I grow one year in over two hundred of everybody else's years."

"So you wanted me to think you were dead?" Ryou asked gently. "You wanted me to move on?"

Malik nodded miserably. "It's wrong of me to tie you down. You already saw what happens: you grow older, mature, leaving me behind, until one day you'd wake up and see that the person you spent your life with is so laughably younger than you, and that's never going to change, it's only going to get worse."

"So that's why you never let me get you any birthday presents," Ryou mused, almost laughing to himself at the randomness and irrelevance of the thought.

"But Isis told us that it was passed on through generations," Anzu said.

"Isis lied," Malik answered.

"Why were you cursed like that?" Yugi asked.

"To guard the fucking memories of the Pharaoh," Malik said bitterly. "And turns out, the Millennium Items as well. Why do you think I tried to destroy you in Battle City? I thought that after you got the memories we would all drop dead, turn into dust, never having really lived a full life. But maybe what ended up happening is worse, in some way. We're still alive. And now we don't even know _when_ we'll be dying. All we know is that an Ishtar can kill an Ishtar other than himself. That's how my parents died." He stopped, not daring to voice his petrifying fear that Isis and Rishid would leave him as well, and he would be left alone to live through the years leading up to eternity. Malik leaned away from Ryou's warm chest to look him straight in the eyes. "I have to leave, Ryou." There was no way he could vocalize the horror that threatened him whenever he thought of Ryou as an old man, while he was still young.

"Isn't that stupid?" Ryou pleaded, "if we truly have so little time together, don't you want to make the most of it?" By now the two had practically forgotten about the others, and were speaking exclusively to each other.

"You don't understand!" Malik said. "Let me tell you about a girl I knew once in Egypt. I was eight, or nearly 800. We used to play together, we were great friends. But years passed, and suddenly she was older, she didn't want to hang around with a kid anymore. I was hurt so badly…I went off for a while, sulking, but when I came back I discovered that I had spent a lot longer than I had thought. You see, sometimes I experience time differently…it drags on so much, everything just blurs together until one day I wake up and its twenty years later. Anyway, I suddenly found her married, with a kid. She saw me, and she let me come in to her house, she said I reminded her of someone she… once knew." His voice was strained as he finished. "It doesn't matter, because everybody grows old and dies in the end. Except me."

Ryou was silent, not knowing what to say. It was hard for him to comprehend that Malik, who he thought he knew inside-out, was so different. Hearing Malik talk unhappily about his thousands of years of living was so….surreal. He had an inkling of what his love was feeling, but couldn't really comprehend what it would be like to live for so long. Malik was looking at him with such a forlorn expression, Ryou tried to cheer him up a little. "So, if you're three thousand and are with me, I guess that makes you a pedophile?"

Malik gave him a twisted half-smile, and rewarded Ryou with a hug, whispering a soft 'thank you'. Ryou hugged him back enthusiastically, but soon he could hear Malik murmuring in his ear once again.

"Love, I know this hurts…but I need to leave." Didn't Ryou understand that once he died, Malik would never see him again? Some part of him knew that he would never die, would wander the world for the rest of eternity, would never reach the afterlife.

"You think I'll let you go off like this?" Ryou said emphatically.

"I'm not asking," Malik breathed back. Ryou's heart pounded hard before plummeting, and he knew that he had lost Malik forever, more certainly than if he had died.

"One last night," Ryou said vehemently, clinging to his lover. "Come to the apartment for one last time before you go."

Later that night found them lying against each other in bed, comfortably exhausted. Ryou had his head on Malik's chest, his white hair spilling all over the place while Malik ran his fingers rhythmically over his back.

"Ryou…" Malik said softly, "would you do something for me?"

"Of course!" Ryou answered immediately, lifting his head to look at Malik's face.

"I want you to get married."

"What?" Ryou cried. Malik was regarding him seriously.

"I want you to find a girl and get married, and have kids. And then, I'll come back in say, seven years or so and I can baby-sit them, and-"

"Are you serious?!" Ryou pushed himself up, to look at Malik intensely. Malik sat up stiffly, shifting them until Ryou was in his lap, before linking his hands behind Ryou's back.

"I've never been more serious. I want you to have a family."

"And you're talking about this now of all times?" Ryou indicated their current state.

"Now is as good as any time. Is it not written, 'If not now, then when?'" was the slightly whimsical answer.

Ryou leaned forward, pushing Malik back into a prone position on the bed. "We'll talk about it in the morning, ok?" he said softly. Malik just smiled sadly.

Ryou woke up slowly late the next morning, but the feeling of being alone in bed jolted him awake immediately. He sat bolt upright, looking at the depression where Malik had lain the night before. The house was completely quiet, as Ryou leaped out of bed and ran around, calling Malik's name. Finally, he went back into their room, falling heavily onto the bed. Maybe last night was just a dream, he thought unhappily. Once again, Malik was dead to him. Ryou pushed his face into the pillow, trying to block out the world. He pulled back abruptly when he felt something hard under the pillow, a slight disturbance. He tore the pillow away, to reveal a small gold earring, the polished gold shining brightly in the sunlight. Ryou held the earring close, caressing the gold gently with his fingertips. He wondered if he would ever see Malik again.


	2. A Few Years Later: Second Meeting

Words of the Wise Authoress: Do you ever get the sense that all those introductions authors stick in before their stories get kind of too stupid and redundant? You know, all those authors and authoresses who bounce around the room, claiming ownership of our favorite, drop-dead gorgeous anime characters and sticking them in broom closets for minor insults? Well, I dunno about you, but I'm getting really sick of those… so I think I'll just skip it, and try to come up with a good, original intro next time.

Have fun reading this story! Even thought I'm not the author, I'm supposed to pretend I am, and relay your lovely reviews on to the real author. So don't forget to leave a nice review!!!!!

Love ya, SeventhDaughter. Yu-Gi-Oh cast waves an enthusiastic hello from behind SD's back

Disclaimer: I would if I could, but… I don't.

On with the story!

England. A normal street. A normal house. A normal family.

The house was a typical English house, with a cute tile roof, big bay front windows, and two floors. The family had moved to England several years before from Japan. The father was English, the mother Japanese. They had a three-year-old daughter, already bilingual, and wanted more children.

The day was typically overcast, casting a dreary, gray tinge over everything. Everything, that is, except for the tall, thin teenager walking down the street. He was a bright blot of color in the gray late-autumn day.

He glanced nervously at the rumpled piece of paper in his hand. He had only checked the address written on it about a million times in the last hour… there. That was the house. Was this truly a good idea? It had been years ago, since the last time they'd seen each other. It was stupid, to want to push himself back into the other's life like this. But-

He walked up the stone path, between colorful clumps of flowers, and rang the doorbell. _I have the feeling I'm going to regret this_.

Tamae Bakura opened the door to a strange sight. On the doorstep stood a teenager whose pale blond hair contrasted with dark mocha skin and startling lavender eyes. He wore a cut-up black sweatshirt that was slightly too big and hung off one shoulder, showing the blue shirt underneath. His jeans were worn, and he carried a large brown backpack on his back. He just stared at her nervously for a moment, before speaking.

"My name is Malik Ishtar… I think I'm an old friend of your husband's."

Tamae raised an eyebrow at his strange announcement. Was this some kind of scam? Should she call the police? "You _think_?" she asked. He flushed.

"We've been out of contact for many years…we used to be great friends, so I decided to look him up…" he trailed off, swallowed, tried again. "His name is Ryou Bakura, isn't it? White hair, brown eyes, used to live in Domino, Japan- Oh! His favorite fruit is strawberries! Or maybe that's changed by now?" Conscious that he was rambling, Malik fell silent. Stupid, stupid, stupid idea to come here. This was Ryou's wife, for goodness' sake! What was he thinking, that they would actually be happy to see him?!

Tamae smiled at him. "No, he still likes strawberries. He should be home very soon. Would you like to come in and wait for him?" Malik flashed her a grin, and stepped into the house. _Well, he looks nice enough_, Tamae thought to herself, then laughed inwardly at the double meaning to the words.

Malik followed Tamae into the house. She was shorter than he was, with silky mouse-brown hair but vivid green eyes. So, this was the woman Ryou had chosen to marry. Ryou loved her – the way he had once loved Malik? Did he still love Malik? The boy felt a sudden surge of jealousy, which he quickly suppressed. _I said I wasn't going to think of that_, he admonished himself_. I was the one who told him to go get married. It wouldn't have worked between us. We broke up, and that's final. We're just friends now. Maybe…what if he doesn't want to see me? What if he throws me out, or says he doesn't know me? What if-_ His train of thought was cut off as he realized that Tamae had asked him something.

"What?"

"I said," the woman repeated, "where do you know Ryou from?"

_What to say, what to say?_ "I used to live in Domino too, and he would sorta help me with schoolwork," _only part lie_, "and we would hang out a lot doing other stuff, but then I had to move away." Malik stopped. Frankly, he didn't know what else to say. _I guess Ryou never mentioned me to her…did I not mean anything to him? Could he have forgotten me? _

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway was heard, then the slamming of car doors. "Oh!" Tamae got up, "that must be him and Rei now." Not quite sure why, Malik also stood up, and waited awkwardly in the neat living room. The front door opened and shut, and he heard Ryou's unmistakable voice calling out, "We're home!" followed by a shriller, cute "We home!" A small girl with grayish-brown hair in two braids bounced into the living room, stopping short when she saw Malik. And then Ryou entered.

Ryou's greeting died on his lips when he saw who else occupied the room. He stared in disbelief, hardly believing his eyes_. He's so_ young, was the first thought that went through his head. Was this really Malik? _He's a teenager_, Ryou noted with some surprise. It hadn't been so obvious seven years ago, but now the difference in their ages was extremely obvious. Malik seemed horribly out of place in his living room, from a time and place so distant it seemed unreal. Memories of what they had shared rushed through his mind, and he pushed them back. He was married now; he had a new life, and a child. Where did Malik fit into this picture?

Malik stood silently, watching Ryou, who hadn't said anything yet, only stared at him. This really had been a bad idea, he thought, stomach plummeting. Resisting the pathetic urge to cry, he wrenched his gaze away from this white-haired _man_, telling himself it was only to be expected. Life was dynamic; there was no space in the world for someone as static as him. "Sorry," he said, swallowing his disappointment with supreme effort, "I guess I came to the wrong house after all. Sorry I bothered you, Mrs. Bakura, I'll just leave…." He would go find some quiet place to commit suicide and have a good cry.

"No, Malik," Ryou suddenly said, "don't say that." The tragically hopeful look the Egyptian was giving him only strengthened his resolve_. I won't turn him away, like so many others have_. _No matter how long past, he's still the same Malik_ – obviously so, painfully so, more the same than any human being should be – _and I loved him once, and he's still my friend_. "I'm glad to see you again. I was just surprised." He pulled Malik into a hug, which the other returned enthusiastically. "I missed you," Ryou said, when they finally pulled away. "Come, sit down. What have you been doing all these years?" he fell into Host Mode easily. Questions like this didn't demand much thought or concentration; he'd had plenty of practice asking them during family gatherings and such.

Malik was so giddy with relief he hardly knew where to start. "Well, I wandered, not really, I actually spent a few years in one place, a few in another, you know, I went backpacking a little, since I don't have to worry about all those nasty diseases you know, I wish I could have come back sooner, I mean, uh," Malik blushed again. What was with him? He was babbling like some kid with a crush! Not for the first time, he wished he could act a bit more mature. He organized his thoughts. "I was in Kenya for about two years, just wandering around. I think most of the rest of the time I worked on the docks in Mexico."

What a strange person, Tamae thought. Not the kind of person she would have thought her Ryou would be good friends with.

Ryou, for his part, was still trying to link Malik to his present. When had he become so deeply set in reality? Way back when, magic had been and integral part of life. Now, he sometimes had problems believing those adventures had ever happened. But Malik….

Suddenly he noticed the slightly awkward silence that reigned once again.

Malik stared at the floor, one hand absently picking at stray threads in his sleeves. If he'd already come this far, there was nothing he could lose any more…

"Ryou, Tamae," he called them by their first names; after all, he was older than them! "Do you think I could stay with you for a little bit? I mean, Ryou, remember what we said back… then? I want to baby-sit your kids… I promise not to be a bother! I'll even clean the house and cook for you, if you'll only let me stay!" God, he was so pathetic. Malik regretted his words immediately. Was he that starved for companionship? Every moment he spent with Ryou only deepened the hole he was digging himself into, a situation where he was connected and dependent on a mortal. So little time… luckily, he was currently out of contact with Isis and Rishid. They would both have chewed him out soundly for the suggestion he had just made.

He had broken the Ishtars' ironclad law: Do not get connected! No long-term relationships of any kind, no falling in love. And most of all, never tell anyone about the curse. How easily he had gone against every one of those rules! He would no doubt pay for these transgressions later on….

Ryou honestly didn't know what to say. The old Ryou would have agreed wholeheartedly, immediately, to the suggestion, but he was no longer the old Ryou. For the first time, he felt trepidation. What kind of influence would Malik be on little Rei? How would he explain this to his wife? She was now looking at him almost helplessly, not sure what to say. After all, Malik was _his_ friend.

"Why don't you stay for tonight, and we'll see about what happens later, ok?" Ryou finally gave a non-committing answer.

One night became two, which became a week, and then a month, until Malik was pretty much adopted by the Bakuras. True to his word, the teenage immortal insisted on cleaning the house and helping with other chores, and babysitting Rei. He said he didn't need to go to school.

Ryou fabricated a story for Tamae, sick at himself for lying, but seeing no other option. How could he possibly tell the whole story? Instead, he claimed that Malik came from an obscure country in Africa, and that he had a strange disease born of inbreeding that prevented him from ageing normally, both physiologically and psychologically. Tamae accepted his explanation, though she suspected there was more to the story. Much more.

Rei got used to Malik very quickly, and they soon shared a strong sibling bond. Her older brother Malik was the coolest ever! He told her stories about many strange things and places, and knew how to do lots of strange things. Once he even showed her how he made a small white light in the palm of his hand, but he told her she mustn't tell Daddy about it. It was their little secret. On the other hand, she learned that she also shouldn't ask him how old he was. He always gave the same answer, sixteen and a half, and he always looked sad. So Rei stopped asking, and accepted that her brother stayed the same, and didn't ask anymore. She didn't like it when Malik was sad.

Tamae was a lawyer, and a successful one. Being bilingual was a big help, and she did brisk business between Britain and Japan. One spring, about three months after Malik had moved in, she went on one of her routine trips, leaving Ryou and Malik home with Rei. She wasn't worried about them; both had already shown that they could manage quite handily.

For the first few days, things were fine. Until the evening Rei stayed over at a friend's house.

The house was unnaturally quiet and empty. Malik prowled restlessly, looking for something to do. He wasn't used to being practically alone in such a big house. Despite the fact that he had a lot of money that just sat around in banks collecting interest, he didn't use most of it. What was the point in having a big conspicuous house, only to desert it a few years down the line when he moved? And Ryou was in the house with him. He was almost afraid to be alone with Ryou now. Ever since he had moved in, it seemed like they just couldn't talk to each other normally. Malik got along better with Tamae and Rei than with Ryou!

Ryou listened to the almost-silent footsteps moving restlessly on the second floor. Now, when the house was finally empty, maybe he could talk to Malik properly. Decisively, he got up and went to look for the boy.

Ryou had just turned to the stairs when Malik came barreling down into him. As usual, Malik had taken the stairs two at a time, and didn't stop soon enough to keep from slamming right into Ryou. The impact knocked them both against the wall, and Ryou grabbed onto Malik to steady them both.

They both froze, noticing their proximity. Ryou had his hands around Malik's waist, and Malik was pressed against him from the fall, his tanned hands gripping Ryou's upper arms. Their eyes locked on each other, lavender drowning in deep pools of brown. It was impossible to say who leaned forward first, but the next thing they knew their lips were pressed together.

For one wonderful moment, they held each other, kissing with shared passion that had lain dormant for so long.

Ryou reveled in the feel of the warm, hard body against his, until suddenly his mind froze in horror. Tamae!

Malik was shoved away so suddenly he fell down, and just sat there, staring at Ryou with a worried expression.

_Shit_, was the only thought running through his mind. _He's married…he's married and I touched him!_ Hopeless…he was going to be thrown out now for sure. He knew that this was a transgression Ryou would never forgive. He hung his head, pale blond bangs hiding his face, as Ryou stormed off. _I'm sorry, Ryou_. His eyes were suspiciously wet. _I'm just a teenager, with teenage hormones. What am I supposed to do? I still love you_. All these months of living with Ryou in the same house, pretending they were no more than casual friends, had been very hard on him. He couldn't help but secretly want his former lover back. At least he had been able to integrate as part of the family, in some way. But this was impossible to overlook. He might as well just get going, before Ryou could kick him out.

Ryou was dizzy, disgusted at himself for what he had nearly done, and angry with Malik who had pushed him to that state. Some part of him recognized that it wasn't really Malik's fault – what could he expect from the immortal teenager? _He_ was the grown up, the responsible one, not the kid. Damn it all. Ryou leaned against the wall, eyes closed, trying to organize his thoughts. It didn't help that he still felt the burning lust, Malik's mouth moving hungrily against his own, the sweet taste of desire on his tongue.

The opening of the front door alerted Ryou, who jerked up, puzzled. Who had come… no! He tore down to the front door, just in time to see Malik walking out, shoulders slumped and head hanging. He ran toward him, automatically reaching out one arm to grab Malik's shoulder and drag him back roughly.

"You are NOT leaving," he said urgently. "Not this time. That's not a solution." Malik wouldn't look at him; instead, those lavender eyes were fixed dully on the floor, and his shoulder in Ryou's grip was tense. Ryou rigidly controlled his lust, and tried to state his feelings. No matter what, it wasn't fair to blame Malik for this, and it wasn't fair to punish him for it. He knew that the one thing Malik wanted more than anything was to be normal, and he wasn't about to take away what little the immortal had gained. "So something went wrong. Walking away from problems never gets them solved."

Malik shook his head. "The problem here is _me_."

"No, it's not," Ryou said softly. "The problem is what we used to have between us. I loved you very much, and I still love you, but not in the same way. I'm married now."

"And I'm the one who told you to get married," Malik added glumly. "I'm sorry Ryou," he was calming down now, "I- I guess my hormones got the better of me… you try being a horny teenager for two hundred years…."

A smile quirked Ryou's mouth, and he tugged Malik gently back into the house. "Well, you're doing a fine job regardless."

Malik gave Ryou a fake grin, a quick hug, and escaped upstairs. Ryou collapsed on a sofa, put his head in his arms, and hoped to God things would be okay.

Malik fell onto his bed, willing away the tears. He hugged his pillow tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. "I love you, Ryou," he whispered, resolving that this would be the last time he ever thought or vocalized those words. When he had asked Ryou to go have a family, he hadn't thought it would hurt this much. For the first time in months, Malik locked himself in the bathroom and stabbed himself to death.

The worst part of the day, Malik thought, was the part after he had finished his morning chores and before everyone was home, when he was all alone. Sometimes he would find things to do, such as reading, wandering around the neighborhood, stuff like that. But there were plenty of days when his melancholy would begin to catch up with him and he'd wander around, not knowing what to do with himself.

Someone was watching him. During the entire time Malik was alone the spirit would float behind doors and around corners, silently watching him. So long had passed… and he wasn't as strong as he had once been. The Pharaoh had eventually moved on to the next world, but he was still stuck in this one, frozen in time, with no purpose, nothing to look forward to. He was hopelessly tired, and horribly alone. He was now weaker than he had ever been, exiled from Ryou's body most of the time. With time, Ryou had forgotten about him, had even stopped believing he had ever really existed. Now he wasn't able to take over Ryou's body, even when he wanted to. He was simply a wandering spirit, kept close to Ryou's body or his house. And he found himself hopelessly attracted to Malik. Malik was just like him, wasn't he? Neither of them had a purpose; both lived in existences separated from the rest of humanity, locked in this moment. But Malik never noticed him. Malik was too caught up with Ryou. The spirit watched as day after day Malik pined after the man he could never have, whom he had willingly given up.

Being alone does things to people. Existing in virtual vacuum, ignored by everyone, had made the spirit doubt his own existence. What was he going to do with himself now, surrounded by people whose disbelief in him made him lose what tenacious hold on reality he had?

Finally, one day, the spirit decided to do something. Malik, alone in his room, sat morosely on his bed, idly wondering what to do, trying not to think about how desperately horny he was. Ever since he had moved in with the Bakuras, and especially ever since the incident with Ryou, Malik had hardly dared even think about sex. Which was incredibly hard, considering his physical age.

Soft footsteps startled him into look up. The spirit had used what little power reserves he had in order to make himself temporarily solid. Of course, this solidity was only visible to people with a strong grasp on the supernatural.

"You?" Malik said, recognizing him. "I didn't know you were still around."

The spirit didn't answer, rather knelt on the floor in front of Malik, pushing the boy's knees apart.

"What are you-?!" Malik protested, momentarily shocked.

The spirit's voice was husky, though not just from disuse. "You want Ryou, don't you?" He leaned forward, his hands on the zipper of Malik's jeans.

_Ryou… he really looks like Ryou…. _Malik found himself unable to resist as he fisted his hands in the soft white hair, whimpering Ryou's name.

From then on, the spirit would show up every once in awhile to have sex – for that was all it was. Malik felt guilty every time he used the other like that, but the temptation was too great, and each time he was unable to resist the silent invitation. He never dared ask why the spirit did it; he was too afraid it would make him stop.

After a while, Malik dubbed the spirit 'Bakura', and would talk to him. Bakura wasn't very talkative, but was happy to listen to someone who treated him as if he was really there. His sense of self wasn't strong enough yet to have long conversations. And besides, what would he possibly say? It wasn't as if he had done anything noteworthy lately. So he just sat quietly, listening to Malik talk about anything under the sun, and wished that Malik would cry out _his_ name in passion, instead of Ryou's.

Years passed. Malik became an integral, if unchanging, part of the Bakura family life. Tamae didn't fail to notice the strangeness about him, and she still harbored suspicions that things were not as simple as they seemed. But she too grew to love him, and decided to wait until Malik or Ryou let her in on the secret. Meanwhile, she had no reason to distrust him.

Rei grew older, and soon had a younger brother and sister. She and Malik were best friends. She knew that she could trust him with anything, and he would never betray her. If she had trouble with bullies, Malik took care of them for her. She told him about her secret crush in fifth grade, about the best friend who hurt her badly in seventh, and anything and everything else in her life.

For Malik, the years were happy, but trying. He lived in the moment, trying not to notice how everyone else kept growing older. Countless times he found himself standing in front of the door, resolving to leave once and for all. Each time he fought with himself, and finally decided to stay just one more day.

Each time, that is, until Rei's seventeenth birthday.

The preparations for the party were extensive, and it seemed like Rei was inviting everyone she knew. After all, this was her last birthday as a child. Malik helped out with everything, trying hard not to let the occasion get to him.

He hated birthdays – detested them with a passion. But other people didn't agree with him, and Rei wouldn't understand anyway. So he pretended. He was a good liar.

The entire evening he wandered among her guests with a smile plastered on his face and a wooden feeling in his heart, receiving appreciative looks from the girls and curious or jealous looks from the guys. He desperately wanted to get away to sit alone on some rooftop and blank his mind. If only he could go to Ryou…but Ryou and Tamae were upstairs so as not to bother, and he didn't want to intrude. He wondered how much longer he would have to stay downstairs for politeness' sake, for he didn't want to hurt Rei by leaving.

Rei was getting a drink with her friend Linda, who was giddy from dancing.

"I just danced with that cutie over there," she gushed. "Who is he, anyway? I don't think he's in our school."

Rei followed the finger. "Him? He's Malik, my older brother."

Linda looked between Rei and Malik, confused. "You don't look alike."

"Silly, he's adopted!"

Linda shrugged. "Whatever. How old is he?"

Rei laughed, and gave the answer Malik always gave. "Sixteen and a half."

Her friend looked puzzled. "Then why do you call him your older brother?"

"Hey…you're right! Malik!" Rei called out, catching his attention. "If I'm seventeen now, I guess you're not my _older_ brother anymore! I'm older than you!"

Malik's jaw tightened, the words reverberating through his mind. _Not my older brother anymore_. It was true, it was true. Rei, whom he had babysat, seen potty trained, walked to her first day of school, was older than him. She was seventeen. How many times had this happened? It seemed as though he'd barely turned around, and another person he knew was growing old. First Ryou, now his daughter, how many years would it be until they were dead? He hardly registered the people around him as he walked numbly away, climbing up the stairs. Damn it! Did she have to point it out, and tonight of all nights?!

Rei watched him go, worried, and would have gone after him, but for her friends who surrounded her, chattering. She would talk to him later.

Malik went into the bathroom, and closing the door behind him, sank to the floor, hugging his knees. Damn, damn, damn. Maybe… maybe tonight…. He pulled out his pocketknife, climbing into the bathtub.

"Malik, stop, it's not going to help!" It was Bakura, his transparent form hovering nearby. But Malik didn't want to listen to the voice of reason, and ignored the spirit. With a practiced, familiar movement, he slashed the knife down his forearms, from wrist to elbow. Bleeding to 'death' always took him longer to recover from than just a stab, and he wanted to be 'dead' for as long as possible tonight.

"Malik," Bakura said softly one last time, already fading out.

"Wait…" The quiet voice startled him back, and he looked at the blonde Egyptian curiously. "Stay with me a little?" Malik pleaded, blood bubbling out of the wounds on his arms.

"Of course." Bakura sat down by the tub, and played with the soft blonde locks, until Malik was still.


End file.
